


Hemlock

by BeastFeast87



Category: Camp Camp (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Childhood Friends, Alternate Universe - Creatures & Monsters, Growing Up Together, M/M, Magic, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Slow Burn, Teratophilia
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-15
Updated: 2019-04-08
Packaged: 2019-08-02 07:57:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,536
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16301132
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BeastFeast87/pseuds/BeastFeast87
Summary: Davey was supposed to die at age ten, when he got lost in the woods of Camp Campbell.But he didn't.  He came out different.(Special thanks to my Beta, Shrub (shrubbest.tumblr.com))





	1. Running Into

 

Davey stares into the thick brambles of the woods and wistfully thinks of the berry bushes and cherry trees that formed the thicket of the woods behind his old house.  He liked to watch the birds take them.

 

He wandered, breaching the woods, and felt a little more relaxed.  He sighed, jogging a little faster and watching the wind stir the trees.  It was pretty nice in the sun, but beneath the shade of the trees it was almost icy.  He shivered, regretting not taking his hoodie. Oh well. Jogging was warming him up; besides, he liked the briskness of a cool breeze.  

 

He felt his stomach twist.  He moved faster, watching the speed of the world under his feet.  The trees blurred past him and if he moved fast enough they looked familiar.  Davey pulled his frustrations to the forefront of his mind, relishing in the anger that pooled in his gut and left it behind him with each footfall that hit the ground with all his might.  Even as his lungs burned and legs grew hot and tired under the strain, Davey forced himself further and faster, gritting his teeth. He focused hard on his emotions and the wonderful release he felt as he ran.

 

Moments like this, where Davey could get angry and force his muscles beyond their usual capacity for energy, were what kept Davey going.  The earth moved past. It was what kept him running.

 

Slowly, Davey petered off to a slow stumble of a jog and then to a panting walk.  The air stung his lungs painfully with the dry, chilled air but he relished each breath.  He almost paused to rest against a tree but pushed himself to keep walking.

 

Davey swallowed painfully and wished he’d grabbed his water bottle.  Even the awful smelling well water that came from the pump with a bee’s nest by it would be better than his dry throat.  Davey sighed and pushed on, curiously looking around for any landmarks he could remember, but none of the forest here looked familiar at all.  He frowned, looking up and checking for the sun to direct him but found that the overcast sky wasn’t any help at all either. He probably wouldn’t have been able to make the sun out through the thick brush anyhow.

 

Davey turned around and began walking the opposite way he came, hoping he hadn’t taken too many turns in his adrenaline-induced haze.  As the young boy walked, he cursed himself for not taking a path or just running along the shore of the lake. He felt tears push against the backs of his eyes and he squinted, pushing them back.  Davey didn’t cry. He didn’t ever cry. This was a bad situation but he couldn’t ever let anyone see him cry. He glared at the trees where a robin ruffled and preened her feathers. Even if it was just a bird.  He idly wondered if robins told each other stories about humans they’d seen. Do robins even have friends? Maybe in a past life he was a robin too.

 

Davey stumbles along, frustratedly slapping at his calves which were now showing signs of bug bites.  He wishes he’d put on bug spray. He wishes a lot of things.

 

He wishes he had brought his water bottle.  He wishes he had brought a compass. He wishes he had brought his hoodie.  He wishes he were _home._

 

Davey passed the same stump five times now.  Or was it four? He couldn’t keep track. He was miserably lost.  Davey fell against it and felt the tears pushing at his eyelids spill and overflow.  He whimpered pressing his back into the bark and felt it bite through his camping vest.  He just wanted to go home. Davey started to sob uncontrollably, shame biting into him the same as the bark of the stump against his back.  His frame was shaking and finally he tilted his head back and let out a yell of frustration. He didn’t have any words; didn’t have any cusses to give.  He just screamed his dry throat raw. He only got an echo back, and then the silence of the forest. He hiccuped, still shaking with the after effects of the emotional outburst.

 

Davey sighed and drew his knees up, worn out from his fit.  The beginnings of a headache were starting to pound at his head.  Even the dim light of the forest was getting to be irritating to his photosensitive, wet eyes.  He wiped his face.

 

David closed his eyes and shivered.  He held his knees closer to his face, wrapping his arms around himself in an effort to keep warm.  At least in the woods the wind wasn't near as bad. Somehow though, he'd felt even colder.

 

Someone would come for him.  His roommate would notice him for certain.  The jazzy blond was annoying but he knew his stuff.  He couldn't see him getting lost like he had. He'd find him.  Someone would.

 

Someone had to notice he was gone.

  
  


* * *

 

  
  


David stirred every few minutes, dizzy and cold.  His mind rode waves of sleep, occasionally riding too high and was becoming annoyingly aware of his body: throat dry, head aching, stomach rumbling, and _very, very cold._  He'd hear the trees, but never heard anyone.

 

He fell back into the loose grip of sleep, unaware and uncaring of the passage of time.   _He opened his eyes blearily at the feeling of his rumbling tummy.  What time was it? Surely it wasn't time for it to be dark yet, he had only just left.  Time felt congealed around him like glue, his body strange and sticky with sweat._

 

_Davey closed his eyes again.  He shivered. It was getting colder._

  
  


* * *

 

  
  


_Davey opened blurry eyes and watched the world roll by in his dream.  The earth was cradling him, pulling him somewhere. Taking him home, or to the place David was always meant to be.  The smooth stone beneath him warped around his curled body. The trees passed in the dark, the barest hint of frost crackling in his ears like dying stars._

 

_He closed his eyes and sighed.  He isn't cold anymore. His throat was still pretty dry, but that's okay.  He's warm. The earth- a tree? The nature surrounding him that moved with his body and carried him was supple and warm like water._

 

_Then, all at once, he was at the floor and cold again.  There was a soft noise, like heavy curtains moving over wood, fabric being dragged.  “Wait-” he whimpered. “Don't let me go- I don't want to leave, please don't make me go back”.  He felt like crying again. All he wanted was to stay._

 

 _The sound stopped.  He saw two dim green lights through his sleep ridden haze._ **_“You really are a pain in the ass, aren't you?”_ **

 

_Davey could smell cherries._

  
  
  


* * *

 

  
  
  


Davey frustratedly knots his fingers in his sleeping bag.  “I said I'm fine!”

 

Gregg sighs, setting his water bottle down his bedside as the young boy sat up.  “You're not fine, you have a cold. You're lucky you don't have pneumonia!” The counselor fretfully rearranged everything twice.  “It shouldn't have even gotten so cold that night”.

 

 _Yeah, I'm real lucky._  Davey couldn't help but scowl at the thought.  Now that he was more conscious of himself and his surroundings, he couldn't help but wonder how he'd gotten back.  He had no idea how he could have managed it. He'd felt so- _no, he wasn't going there._  He felt cold and tired.  Every part of him ached like it still did now.  He was sick of this. All of this. He didn't want to be here anymore.

 

Davey’s Ma had always taught him to speak clearly, concisely (whatever that meant.  Davey thinks it means ten words or less), honestly, and to use ‘I feel…’ sentences. She said it was important to say how you feel so no one feels blamed. Since he first found out how to use it, there was one sentence that always seemed to help him feel better; one that had his mother hold him close and feel, just for a moment, that things were more manageable.  His Ma wasn't here, but he still wanted to say it. It might still help.

 

“Nothing feels good”.

 

Gregg paused in his rearranging of the sick bay.  “That’s what happens when you're sick”.

 

He did feel a little better.  Gregg’s consoling could do some work though.  He shook his head. “Yeah, whatever. I'm going to lay down.  Go away”.

 

Gregg sighs.  “Alright. You have the walkie?” he asks, standing up straight.

 

Davey pushes himself down into the warmth of his sleeping bag.  He sniffles, unable to smell with how congested he was. He waves the crappy thing in his hand by the big, rubber antenna.  “Yeah”.

 

“Ok.  Call if you need anything, Davey.  Try not to cause any trouble”.

 

Davey didn't answer.  He lay down and closed his eyes, brow furrowed.

 

In his sick, dehydrated, exhausted, sleepy haze, he'd thought it was the earth moving and taking him home, but now Davey was certain it had to be a person.  Someone had to have been carrying him, or pulling him along by a sack or something.

 

But who?  No one knew where he was.  Darla has told him when he'd woken up the next morning in the sick bay that they'd found him on the porch to the counselor’s cabin covered in pine needles and scuffed to hell from how he'd torn through the brambles without a care during his run.

 

Darla has told him maybe he subconsciously remembered the way back, and in his exhausted haze, his body just _took_ him back.  “It's like sleepwalking,” she'd said.  “Just life-saving”.

 

But Davey hadn't walked.  He couldn't have. He felt something.  Some _one._

 

He could only vaguely remember...

 

Davey squinted and looked outside to the activities field.  There was nothing suspicious. Davey frowned and blinked slow, two green lights imprinted on the backs of his eyelids.

 

Eyelids.

 

_Eyes._


	2. Cloak And Dagger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Something's after David, and he's determined to prove it.

David could swear that the world around him was warping, and it wasn’t to his liking.

 

Everywhere he walked it felt as though he were being stalked, watched.

 

It started with his shirt.

 

“Jasper, have you seen my shirt?” he asks.

 

“Uh, I don’t think so!  Which one?”

 

Davey rolled his eyes, looking at is suitcase’s insides.  Nothing  _ seemed _ out of place- just that his shirt was gone.  “You know, the yellow camp one!”

 

“Oh, uh… no, I don’t think so.  Sorry, dog!”

 

Davey frowned.  He could have sworn he left it out to wear tomorrow.

 

He watched Jasper out of the corner of his eye suspiciously.  Jasper didn't seem to be the stealing type, but he couldn't think of anyone that could get into their tent late at night.  But who would even steal a camp shirt of all things? They all got one at the beginning.

 

He didn’t see it for a week.

  
  
  


* * *

 

  
  


Davey tiredly grabbed the plain Cheerios, yawning.  He poured them into his bowl, blinking sleep from his eyes.  He'd been up all night. Every time he began to drift to sleep, he found himself startled awake by some kind of noise.  It always stopped when he was fully awake, and thus couldn't ever make it out.

 

“Uh… are you okay there Davey?” Gregg asks him slowly.  “You look awful”.

 

“Thanks,” he grumbles, pouring milk into his bowl.  “I was hearing some weird noises outside… it was kinda creepy”.  First his shirt, now this? It felt suspicious. He felt vulnerable, and he didn't know why.  Was someone playing a prank on him?

 

“Whoa, watch it!” Gregg gasped, startled.

 

Davey felt his wrist itch and scratched it with sleepy eyes.  His hand flicked against something that crunched and he grabbed it instinctively.  He assumed it was cereal until it started moving.

 

His eyes shot open in surprise and fell backwards when he saw his wrist covered in big, brown-black beetles.  Davey screeched, adrenaline kicking up, and he fumbled. For one white hot second, he felt the real, visceral fear you feel when you tip your chair just a  _ little bit too far. _

 

Then he fell on the floor and screamed (a totally manly) scream.

 

If anyone asked him later (no one had, they'd all seen it happen) then he'd swear someone was playing a prank.

  
  
  
  


* * *

 

  
  
  


David watched his bobber drift on the lake water.

 

_ June beetles.  Phyllophaga. _  They were pretty common bugs, even where he used to live.  He never minded them before. He used to think it was funny how they'd all cluster around his old house’s garage doors in the spring and summer, leaving a crunchy carpet for the car to roll over.

 

The bugs made good fishing bait.  Darla had gathered the cereal up and put the bugs all in a box for fishing the next day.  Davey had volunteered to help and checked every box of cereal for the awful things. Not one box had any of the beetles in them but his.

 

Someone just _ had _ to have put them there on purpose.  There was no way it could have only been his favorite that had been affected!  But even the ones that were open weren’t tainted by the bugs.

 

David leaned against the dangerously creaky rail of the fishing dock.  He pulled his line when he saw the bobber twitch, only to find that the hook no longer had bait.  Like the other ten times it had happened. 

 

Davey wouldn't particularly mind being so bad at fishing if he wasn't normally pretty good at it.  It would help too if someone else was suffering the same bad luck, because like all humans, Davey didn't mind making light of a bad situation if someone else was befallen the same fate.  Unfortunately, the universe conspired against him and Jasper has actually kicked Damien out of his spot to stand next to him, jabbering away about anything and everything while David glumly watched his line with newly applied bait.  

 

Next to him, Jasper reeled in another bass, this one with one eye.  Davey sighed, reeling in until he realized it was hooked on a rock. He resigned to cut the line.  Seemed he was doing nothing but, today.

  
  
  
  


* * *

 

  
  
  


He felt like he was going insane.  There had to be a reasonable explanation, but, hanging from the tree by his foot, Davey couldn't find a single one.

 

It had started out as a normal hike with Gregg, the kids following behind like a row of tired ducklings.  Davey had been pretty interested when he found out that they were going to be hiking in the part he'd been lost in, and made sure to memorize all the landmarks he could, slowly forming a map in his mind.

 

_ Mind map, _ his brain supplied.  He wondered if he could ever begin to memorize this place like he'd memorized the woods at home- at his  _ old _ home.

 

His thoughts were interrupted by a sharp  _ smack _ hitting him on the top of his head.  “Ow!” he protested, hand clapping to his head.  He looked around wildly, the only one near him being Jasper, who was chattering mostly to himself, since Davey couldn't have brought himself to listen.  “Jasper, what the heck?!”

 

Jasper looks to him, startled.  “What's wrong, bro? You look peeved”.

 

Davey fumed.  “What do you mean ‘What’s wrong?’” he snaps back, using a (pretty good) imitation of Jasper’s nasal, easygoing tone.

 

Jasper looked absolutely affronted.  “I don’t sound like that at all!”

 

“You do too!  And you hit me!”

 

“No, and no!  I would never!”

 

“Oh really?  Then who hit me?” Davey snapped.

 

“Nobody!” Jasper replied, eyes wide and startled.  “I wouldn’t hit my friends!”

 

Davey frowned.   _ Not my friend. _  He wanted to say it, but looking at Jasper, he knew the boy wasn’t lying.  Davey himself was a pretty bad liar, but could always tell when someone else was lying.  Jasper wasn’t. He was too stupid to lie. He kept this to himself. Not because he cared what Jasper thought, but because he felt as though as soon as he said it, Jasper would start to lie to him to prove he could.

 

Which he couldn’t.

 

Davey turned around.

 

He supposes he just lost his temper.  Wouldn’t you, after getting hit repeatedly by an unknown source?  Davey sighs gratefully as Gregg carefully untangled his foot from the branch.  “You shouldn’t have climbed so high!”

 

Davey didn’t want to argue.  He didn’t want to explain that he thought having a higher advantage would help see whoever was throwing pinecones.  Instead, he got hit with a pinecone and slipped. He’s lucky his foot caught the tree. For a moment, it almost felt like he was grabbed, until he realized it was a branch.

 

So he didn’t.  In his exhaustion, Davey gave up.

 

Gregg got him down from the tree.

  
  


* * *

 

  
  


The worst was yet to come.

 

Davey had woken up alone, Jasper an early riser, even earlier than Davey.  That happened when you went to bed at seven like an old man or something. Davey preferred to sleep a bit longer and stay up a bit later.  What did it matter if he was up past curfew? Staying a half hour past might even get him in with the cool kids. Not that he had any interest with that, though having options was nice.

 

The first thing was the tripwire.

 

That led into the net.

 

And that got him covered in toothpaste (?) and sap, finally rolling out the door in his frog pajamas.

 

Jasper had gotten out of bed at Davey's screaming without any traps.  Because of course he did.

 

David’s eyes prickled with tears in the shower.  He hiccuped quietly, the stream of hot water washing the sticky, leafy mixture down the drain.  His pj’s were completely ruined beyond repair. His mom was going to kill him when the summer was over.  It felt like the season would never end. To think he was once excited to be here.

 

David sobbed quietly and alone in the shower stall while the other kids had a water balloon fight in the activities field.

 

When he got out, his dry clothes were gone.

  
  
  


* * *

 

  
  


David was livid, furious, and worse still, he knew he looked ridiculous.  At least Gregg and Darla looked equally foolish, all three of them in towels.  Apparently the campers had ganged up on them with super soakers and things had gotten out of hand.

 

They’d both given him sympathetic looks, but it was laced with that disgusting awful look that was a mix of pity and condescending.  The kind you gave people that claimed space aliens had given you cancer or caused a miscarry. The look people gave you when you were the victim of misfortune and crazy.

 

And Davey was  _ not _ crazy.

 

“Davey-” Gregg began, soft and consoling, and  _ not  _ what Davey needed right now.

 

“Oh yeah?!  Well, then how’d my tent get booby trapped like that?!”  He taps his foot with crossed arms, scowling with puffed cheeks.

 

Darla gave him a small smile of pity.  “I think someone in the camp was just playing a prank on you, Davey.  Maybe you should have considered it; you  _ have _ been bothering the other campers a bit with how anxious you’ve been.  I’ll have a talk with them, of course; bullying is not allowed at all!” she says, suddenly stern.

 

“And my missing stuff?” he protests, unwilling to believe that anyone at camp was so devious.

 

“Well…  Julien  _ does _ have sticky fingers, so I will be paying a visit to him to see if he knows anything about your clothes,” Gregg replied pouring tea into a few mugs.  He slid one to Davey who only scowled at it. It didn’t smell fruity.

 

“But my things keep moving!  On their own!” Davey insisted.

 

Darla cocked a brow, amused.  It send his gut roiling with hate.  “Davey, do you have siblings?”

 

“What?  No, but-”

 

“So, would you say this is your first time having a roommate then?” she continued, unperturbed by his death glare.

 

“You think Jasper’s moving my stuff?  Why would he do that?” he asked, momentarily caught off guard.

 

Darla grins.  “Sometimes when you have a roommate, you don’t even realize you moved something of theirs until they ask where it went.  I have two younger sisters and one of them was my roommate for the longest time! I’ve lost a lot of stuff just because she moved it and forgot, and I’m sure she could say the same.  Just be more conscious of where you put them, okay? Make sure it’s not in his way”.

 

“But what about the weird noises?!  And the beetles in my cereal?! And the other weird stuff?!” Davey shouts, grappling for some kind of substantial evidence desperately.  He waves his arms with his words, the counselors looking to each other worriedly. It burned his blood, and yet had him panicking further.

 

“Davey,” Gregg began gently, taking their mugs and crouching to a squat before the boy, “That’s just normal outdoors stuff.  You think I haven’t accidentally eaten beetles from the cereal before? Sometimes they just get in there, since Campbell won’t approve my funding for better culinary- um, food storage”.

 

“And those noises were probably just a fox, or maybe someone’s cat that got loose!” Darla replied with a soothing, helpful tone, smiling graciously down at Davey, like he were a pitiful little idiot that just needed to brush his teeth before bed.  “I got scared my first year here by a fox, because I thought someone was hurting a baby in the woods!”

 

“You’re saying it’s all just… what, some dumb happenstance?” he says, almost anguished.

 

“What, did you want someone to really be after you?” Darla says, looking close to laughter.

 

“Happenstance?” echoed Gregg.

 

David felt his heart plummet.  “Well, no, not really, but… it feels like you guys weren’t even taking me seriously at all!”

 

Gregg’s eyes widened.  “Davey, it’s not that we aren’t taking it seriously!  The fact we’re having this two-on-one here and now is proof of that!  It’s just that all of these things sound like normal adjustments. You’re in a new place, you’re around new people you don’t know if you can trust yet, and you recently went through some major life changes.  Don’t you think maybe it’s possible you were just jumping to conclusions?”

 

David felt doubt weigh on his shoulders, and his heart sank with them.  “I- Well, maybe it’s possible, but… it really felt like someone was-”  _ A bright flash of green in the woods-  _ “...following me”.

  
  
  


* * *

 

  
  


Davey walked into his cabin, shame reddening his face.  He felt so stupid. Of  _ course _ nothing weird was going on, he was in the middle of nowhere!  Who would want to torture  _ him _ of all people in an obscure camp in the middle of the woods?  It was ridiculous. The whole situation! And Davey had read between the lines, only to forget to read the lines themselves altogether.

 

David frustratedly yanked his vest off, his shirt following.  He whipped his head around to find his bag when a flash of yellow caught his eye.  His heart froze in his chest and his breath caught.

 

Folded neatly on his bed was his missing shirt.  A little dirtier, a few green stains that didn't used to be there present, but with his name sharpied onto the tag.  Sitting on top of it was the walkie talkie he'd lost as well. It was turned on and tuned to channel two.

 

The walkie talkie crackled to life.  It snapped and popped like it was running fire between the lines instead of words.  His heart stopped when his own voice came through, though much steadier and smoother than he could have ever managed to make it.  The words were almost slippery with cruel amusement.  _ “Are you- looking- out- the window?” _

 

David’s eyes widened, sweat pooling on his forehead.  He walked slowly to the window of his side of the cabin, and looked out.  He scanned the area, but no matter how hard he looked, he couldn’t see anyone out of the ordinary, or even on a walkie.  “Who is this?! Over,” he asks, breath making his voice squeak.

 

His voice laughed back at him, petering off to a growling hiss.   _ “Can you- see- me?” _ his voice taunted.   _ “Because- I- can see-  _ **_you_ ** _ ”. _

 

“Leave me alone!  This isn’t funny!” he yells aloud, clutching the walkie with both hands.

 

His own laughter answered him, crackling over the speaker.  It slowly dissolved into a different laugh, one completely unfamiliar to him.  It was lower in pitch, but young. Then there was a  _ click _ and the laughter ended.  “Hey! Hey, wait! Who are you!?”

 

“Who are you talking to?”

 

David looked behind him, startled.  Jasper stood in the door, rubbing his wet hair with a towel.  “Jeez, bro-meister! You look like you saw a ghost or something!  It’s just me, Jasper!”

 

Davey scowled.  “You don’t need to say your name so much.  I can  _ see  _ it’s you, you know”.

 

Jasper floundered awkwardly, grinning sheepishly.  “Oh! Uh, ha ha! I guess you’re right, Davey”.

 

Davey scowled and turned away.  He used the walkie’s antenna to move the shirt, flipping it open.

 

Nothing.  There wasn’t even more beetles, or poison ivy.

 

Davey left the walkie on that night, staring at the red ON light.

 

He didn’t hear his voice again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave a comment and lmk what you thought! :)
> 
>  
> 
> Follow me @:  
> beastfeast87.tumblr.com  
> twitter.com/beastfeast87


	3. Walk the Walk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Choose your allies carefully: danger is everywhere.

David's mother was a teacher in every sense of the word: she is a mother (a figurative teacher), which itself implies much teaching, especially when a baby, something that has never known anything about anything, is around; but she was also a literal teacher that taught at an elementary school.  She was an English teacher, which Davey thought was pretty ridiculous since she had a degree in a language she already spoke and was teaching language to children that  _ also  _ already spoke.

 

There were times however when her wisdom seemed to give him a bit of comfort.

 

Often, writers can't quite find the right word or turn of phrase to convey the proper feeling or atmosphere, so they would just make something up that sounded about right in their heads.  A word or phrase that amounted to the right feeling when said or heard. She would remark how often Shakespeare did this, but Davey prefered Lewis Carroll as an example. Because of this, when his Ma would have trouble conveying a feeling, she would do as writers did and make something up, and which either by inherited instinct or learned behavior, her son did as well.  Point being, if you were to ask David how he was doing at this particular moment, he probably wouldn't reply because most kids didn't take kindly to “made up bullshit”.

 

But if he was certain no one would beat him up over it, he’d say that he was doing pretty awful from the lack of sleep and that his eyes felt like hot ice cube dice rattling around in his Yahtzee cup of a head ever since he found his shirt. He’d say that his lungs found the basement of his body and that he'd never felt more like fish when they see a shadow at the top of the lake.

 

Davey walked swiftly to the mess hall, shaking slightly.  His eyes darted about the forest around him at the camp’s clearing as he slowly made his way there.  He kept his footsteps light but brisk and the second he got through the doors he flattened himself to the wall beside the window, peering out through the corner.

 

Nothing.

 

He sighed in relief, but still felt tense.  Whoever-  _ whatever _ was following him- he hadn’t seen it when it had called for him.  Davey decided he would rather see the the thing that stalked him, even if it was horrifying, because at least when you could see something, you knew where it was.

 

When you cease to see something, suddenly, it becomes everywhere.  When danger is everywhere, nowhere is safe.

 

Davey stares hard out the window, searching for anything that might help, but all he sees is the shaking of leaves from the wind.

 

“What’ch’ya lookin’ at?”

 

“AHHH!”

 

Davey would have fallen over if he hadn't had his body pressed to the wall for stability.  He glared with wide eyes, heart beating fast in his ears once from fear but now in anger. “Jasper, what the heck?!”

 

Jasper himself looked startled, the hand that had been reaching out for Davey’s shoulder now curled to his chest.  His eyes were wide with concern and Davey hated it, because he knew it was concern for  _ him _ , rather than whatever was in the woods.

 

If that- that  _ thing _ could get into his tent with ease and leave no trace of itself, then it could get  _ anywhere  _ and do  _ anything it wanted  _ to  _ anyone  _ and that included the counselors and especially the campers.

 

“S- Sorry?  Davey, are you okay?  Do you still think someone's after you?” Jasper asked a little accusingly.  “Come on, you heard the counselors. You oughta listen to them”.

 

Davey, for one wild moment, felt the strong need to protect his roommate.  

 

Jasper was a lot of things.  Jasper was a good knot tyer. Jasper was good at fishing.  Jasper was good at way-finding, hiking, archery, biking... Jasper is the best of them all; but Jasper was also an idiot that put too much faith in authority figures that had done nothing for Davey but let him down and teach him that they were incapable people with their own interests at heart.

 

If something were to happen to the best of them, well… it would be a shame to say the least.  Davey may not think Jasper was nearly as cool as everyone thought, and maybe had a big head, and ate pizza weird (who the heck starts with the  _ crust? _ ), but he was Davey’s roommate and they had to stick together and he didn't want him  _ dead, _ just to leave him alone.

 

If Davey could convince Jasper, then maybe someone might listen to him.

 

“Jasper, I’m serious.  What if something really bad happens?” he plead, standing tall and forcing his expression to worried instead of frustrated.  “If there’s nobody, then there’s nobody, but wouldn’t it make more sense just to check instead of just letting it go?”

 

Jasper flushed when Davey grabbed the blonde by the upper arms, turning his head in embarrassment.  “W- Well, I think that maybe the counselors j- just don’t want to bother the coppers over nothing…” he stutters.

 

“What’s there for them to do in this town anyways?” Davey shoots back with a bit of bitterness.

 

“Who would even be doing that?  We’re just a bunch of kids, Davey,” his roommate shot back, cheeks still pink.

 

A sudden spark lit in the back of Davey’s head, like a memory.  “Exactly”.

 

Jasper’s brows drew together in confusion before lighting in horror.  “Davey? Are you saying that- that you think a- a  _ chickenhawk _ is behind this?!  Davey, that’s- that’s a  _ really serious _ claim!”

 

Davey ground his teeth.  He didn’t think that at all, but if that’s what it took for people to take him seriously, then it was what he would say.  “I’m not saying it is, but I am saying it could be! What do we have to lose besides our virginities to creeps in the woods, Jasper?” he said, a little desperately.

 

Jasper’s face paled.  “I’ll- Okay, I’ll- I’ll see if I can get Darla to call about it”.

 

Davey felt a sudden rush of relief and triumph.  He let out a massive sigh. “Thank you, Jasper”.

 

As Davey watched his roommate stumble to the breakfast counter, Davey paused by the door.  He stared at the heavy wooden thing for a moment, deep in thought. The fact was, no one was going to believe him, especially since the suspicious happenings had ceased.  They'd just think he was crazy.

 

But people would listen to Jasper.  They had to.

 

For a moment, Davey felt the faintest flicker of hope in his chest.

 

Davey got in line.

  
  
  
  


* * *

 

  
  
  


Davey’s eyes skimmed the words of the novel in front of him, but his mind was elsewhere.  His gaze darted to the walkie talkie sitting on the bedpost at the end of his bed, light blinking red to show it was still on.  He hadn’t heard anything since the incident with his shirt. He chewed his lip, trying to focus on the words in front of him but his mind continued to drift.  Jasper had to be enough to get through to them.

 

If he wasn’t, Davey would be branded a crazy for the rest of the summer at least.

 

The tent’s entrance unzipped, his roommate entering with nervous eyes.  “What did they say?” Davey immediately asked, closing the book with a snap and turning so his body was sitting facing Jasper.

 

Jasper fiddled with his bead lizard charm, nervous.  “They… they said that you should stop putting ideas in my head…” he murmured apologetically.

 

Davey felt his bones freeze cold.  “You… you told them that I told you to tell them?” he asks, though it's more of an empty statement, void of feeling.

 

Jasper looks up sheepishly.  “I- they asked if you had said something to me and I wasn't going to lie…” 

 

Davey looked at the ground, a hollow feeling in his ribs, as if all his organs had been scooped out with a spoon and there was nothing with cobwebs inside.

 

“Please try to understand, Davey-dude.  They- you keep going on about some monster or something in the woods, they just- they think you're you're goin’ off your hizzy, you know?”

 

Davey looked up, blinking blankly to the face of his roommate and searched.  He looked for any kind of tip that would tell him if his friend had really tried his hardest, and all he could see was pity.

 

Jasper didn't believe him anymore.  He was so weak-willed that the counselors had swayed him completely, so certain that he was just making it all up.

 

Davey wondered if Jasper even fought for him at all, or if he submitted, belly up immediately, already taken in by the word of authority.

 

Davey stood, cutting off Jasper’s stream of words.  “D- Davey?” Jasper questioned weakly, licking his lips.

 

Davey ignored him, vision starting to fleck red.  He shoved his way past without a word and grabbed the walkie, and stepped with a shaking frame from the doorway to the outside.

 

He didn't hear Jasper come after him, and it somehow hurt more than the betrayal had.

  
  
  


* * *

 

  
  


Davey pulled the antenna up straight with a furious  _ snap _ and brought it to his mouth.  “Alright,” he whispers, voice shaking with anger.  “I know you can hear me, you- you monster”. Davey releases the trigger a moment, hoping for a return.

 

Silence.

 

Davey feels his anger tick even higher.  “You- look, I’m going to give you one chance okay?  I want to talk to you. I’ve got some questions. Meet me in the apple tree cluster tomorrow, a little ways outside camp at about five, okay?”

 

Davey pulled the walkie away from his mouth and waited.  No response again. Frustrated, Davey clicked the talk button again.  “Jeez, for a jerk with a big mouth you sure are being-” Davey broke off, an odd sound stirring him.  It was almost like an echo.

 

He looked around, releasing the button and heard a quick discharge of static, and then, quickly after, another.

 

Davey froze, air turning to stones in his lungs.  He remembers watching on a documentary how sometimes zebra would just freeze when they saw a lion running toward them, teeth gnashing and claws out for murder.  He always thought that was stupid. He couldn’t understand how they could be too scared to run.

 

He understood now.

 

With a quivering hand, David pressed the talk button again and released it.  Static crackled once in his hand and a second after, a quieter, distant crackle was heard right above his head.

 

His walkie talkie beeped in his hand, indicating the other’s talk button was pressed.  Davey held his breath, frozen in terror, mind running at a hundred miles an hour, but nothing useful coming to surface thought.  Slowly, Davey turned his gaze from his hand and tilted his head, back, back, back to face the trees above him.

 

His gaze broke to the top of the trees.  He couldn’t see anything. Not even the walkie talkie.

 

The static crackled above him, and again in his hand, indicating the button’s release.  There was a sudden crackle of tree branches, and the missing walkie fell just a few inches from his face to the floor, covered in scratches and dirt.

 

Davey ran, leaving the dropped walkie behind.

 

He didn’t come out of his tent for dinner that night.  He didn’t even eat the leftovers his roommate brought him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry about the hiatus but im back and ready to write some spooks! has anyone figured out what kind of monster max is yet? the clues are there.


	4. Adam

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nightmares are a bitch, but you look like a dream to me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lol sorry about the lack of updates I promise I'm still doing this haha

_ Davey opened his eyes and realized he couldn't move.  He tried his hardest to squirm but he couldn't manage to move even a finger.  At first, he thought that maybe it was some kind of paralysis, but then he felt something move in his bed that wasn't him.  The darkness turned above him, and the moonlight caught the faintest swirl before a hand that looked a bit too sharp swept out and pulled the slip knot that held the shade flap.  Darkness embraced him and he found he could no longer see through the darkness. _

 

_ He could feel it everywhere, pressing in on him from all sides like a sarcophagus.  Green eyes turned to him, the pupils were blown wide and red, glaring light. Despite the thick, thermal sleeping bag between them, cold sank into his bones from the heavy weight.  The eyes moved closer and he could feel chilled, clammy breath on his face. Davey was frozen, stilled by the eyes of the beast with bloody moons for pupils reflecting back at him. _

 

_ Hands slid over his cheeks on either side, cold and smooth, odd ridges in them like scales.  Claws scraped gently through the short of his hair in an almost curious fashion, turning his face closer to his stare.  The deep red swallowed him like the fear swimming in his lungs. The weight pressed all the air out, smothering him. He felt blood thundering loudly in his ears, an awful, hungry sound. _

 

_ It was only when the claws started to bite his scalp that his mouth opened to scream, air rushing into his lungs. _

 

_ He was muffled by a hand, fresh from his hair, sliding right over his mouth, pressing his jaw shut and lips closed.  His scream came out almost silent, vocal cords thrumming but no air whispering out. The other came around his neck, cutting the air short.  Claws dug painfully into his neck at the sides, thumb pressed to his fast beating pulse. The eyes disappeared a moment, closer, closer, and he heard so close to his ear a quiet, amused, “Shhhh…”  The fingers squeezed tighter a moment, then relaxed, and cycled through the movements a moment as if getting comfortable or playing with his hold. _

 

_ Davey whimpers against the hand, pressing his jaw against the steel trap of its hand.  This was evidently the wrong move because a second later the hand removed itself, but when his mouth opened, clawed fingers slid inside his mouth tasting of pine sap and iced branches in a frost. _

 

_ The air curdled like milk in Davey’s lungs, the fingers diving to his throat, probing almost curiously, eyes peering in deep.  Davey bit down fearfully, squirming. He heard a small chuckle, the fingers stilling. “Don't make this harder than it has to be.  I just want to fucking  _ see _ you stupid asshole”.  Claws pricked his throat, scraping his cheeks.  The slightest taste of copper dripped onto his tongue. _

 

_ Davey choked both in surprise and because clawed fingers were probing his throat.  His mouth was effortlessly pried open with the fingers he’d bitten, moving down to press at his tongue.  Drool fell to the back of his throat, and David choked, trying to inhale. The hand on his throat loosened a moment, allowing hair to shock his lungs with a gasp. _

 

_ It was suffocating; like the clawed, scaled fingers were searching him down from the inside out.  Like they were trying to claw their way in for this monster to reach down his throat and steal something valuable from him. _

 

_ And then, those green eyes were staring his own down, so close Davey could feel the cold coming off in waves, the forest in his nose with the smell of frost and fir. _

 

_ “Go the fuck to sleep,” the voice purred. _

 

_ Davey's eyes rolled to the back of his head and the world went black. _

  
  
  


Davey startled awake, bolt upright in bed with a gasp.  He panted, running fingers through cold sweat greased hair.  He shivered, sticky and uncomfortable. When he went to the latrines before breakfast to brush his teeth, he winced each time the bristles rubbed against his gums.  When he spit, it was tinged pink.

 

Opening his mouth to check the mirror he discovered there were tiny, thin scratches along his gums, cheeks, tongue, and deep in the back of his throat.  David began to shake and he felt tears push from behind his eyes, threatening to spill.

 

This had to stop.

  
  


* * *

 

 

Davey stomps through the forest, tired and fed up.  His eyes were hot and tired, yet his whole body felt cold in the summer heat from the uneasy sleep.

 

Davey had hit a moment in his life that all young people come to.  It was a moment where they realized that the people that were older and more experienced would do nothing because they mistook his inexperience for stupidity when the danger was very real.  It was a moment where Davey, tired, hurt, and emotionally exhausted Davey, had discovered the very human emotion which could only be summarized in two short words:

 

Fuck it.

 

There was a small orchard, a leftover forgotten piece of land in Camp Campbell, that was hidden in the woods.  The apples were overly tart and grew ugly, with awkward bumps and brown specklings. Davey didn't care for them one bit, but sometimes it was nice to just pick apples and leave them for animals that couldn't reach like rabbits and deer.

 

“Hey!  Are you there?!” Davey hollered when he broke into the slightly clearer parting in the firs that made up the orchard.

 

He listened hard, but nothing happened.  “Please, I want to talk! If you're there, speak up!”

 

There was only the faint noise of wind in leaves.

 

Davey slumped, exhausted and leaned against a tree in resignation.  He would never know the answer he tried so hard to find. The frustration ate its way through his stomach, throat, and to the tear that now dropped almost silently down his cheeks.  Davey sniffled and felt pathetic. “I'm so stupid,” he mumbled bitterly, not bothering to wipe his tears. He didn't care about being seen as pathetic anymore. He  _ was  _ pathetic.

 

There was a rustle in the trees.  David honed in on the lush apple tree that seemed to emanate the sound.  He wiped his eyes, hope starting to bubble and called out for the monster plaguing him.  “Hey! Are you there?! I’m talking to you, you jerk! Why do you keep messing with my head?!  Huh?! What’s the big idea?!”

 

A hand suddenly came into view.  It was small, that of a child, and had a kind of dark sort of coloring to it that could have been black, but seemed to change undertones with each moment that passed. Short but deadly claws tipped the fingers, as dark as the scaled arm.  He couldn’t reach it, even if he jumped. How did they get up there? The tree didn’t have any lower branches. “Damn, you’ve got a pair of lungs on you”. Their voice was nasal and haughty, tinged with the cruelty usually found in bullies and the kind of people that thought they were better than everyone else.

 

“Do you want me to say you win?!  Because you do! Congratulations you big jerk!   _ You win! _  Are you happy now?!  Was that important to you?!  Do you feel like a big man on campus?!” he shouts up at the hand.  

 

From behind it, he could see the faintest glimmer of two green dots, like sea glass twinkling in the light.  The scales pulsed slightly, a little ripple of green lighting them before they settled back to their mysterious dark coloring.  “What?” said the voice, almost surprised. Mostly amused though. Like David was a toy that he suddenly found could do a new trick.  “Nah, not really. Mostly I just wanted to watch you suffer”.

 

_ What?!   _

 

“What?!”

 

The fingers twitched, and the tree rustled.  An apple fell and hit him on the head when a branch shook.  Davey hissed in anger, rubbing his head and scowling up at the tree.  The voice in the tree chuckled. “You ever come here before? To Lake Lilac?”

 

“What kind of question is that?  No, I’ve never-”

 

“Then your dumb ass would have known,” the voice powered on, “that there’s nothing to fucking do here”.

 

“What, are you saying you did all those crappy things to me because-  _ because you were bored?!” _

 

“Yeah, pretty much”.

 

“Why, you-!  Get down here so I can kick your butt!”  Davey jumped at the tree, trying to edge his way up using his legs to get up the long trunk.  “Don’t you have a hobby or friends or something?! What’s the big idea anyway, bullying me?!”

 

“Whoa, whoa!  No need to get your tightie-whities in a bunch,” said the voice in amusement.  “You’re not even going to ask how I pulled any of it off? Or who I am? You’re just going to sick yourself on me like a dog?”  The voice in the tree suddenly turned high. “You don’t like my games, Davey?” he asked in Davey’s voice.

 

“Stop it, you creep!  How are you even doing that?” he grumbles, reaching for an out-of-reach branch.  He struggles to keep a good hold of the tree and has to bring his arm back to steady himself when the tree sways.

 

“I’m just really good at making different sounds,” he says, using Davey’s cadence.  “I’ve got a lot of practice. Whatever. You’ve been a really good sport about this, but this is getting old.  I’ll piss off and you can go back to your regular, boring life without me”.

 

“What?!  You’re just going to mess with me for a week and then leave?!  No way, get down here right now! Let’s settle this, once and for all!  I’ll bloody your nose!” he hollered, slowly making his way up the tree. Jeez O’ Pete, that- whoever’s arm was really high, now that he was climbing.

 

“There’s nothing to settle”.  The voice was bored now. “I told you, this was just me messing around.  What’s wrong? Going to miss me?” he says, snickering.

 

“No way!  You’re such a jerk!  Hey-!” he suddenly lost his grip, arms burning and tired, clutching the tree’s branch he’d made it to.  Oh dear, he was really high- He didn’t think this through at all.

 

“Jesus, you really are a pain in my ass, aren’t you?” the voice grumbles.

 

It was like a pin fell into place in his mind.

 

“It was you!” he shouted upwards, breathless with his exhaustion.

 

“What?” the voice asks, dumbfound.

 

“You saved me!  When I got lost!” Davey hollered upwards.  His arms burned with effort but the absolute surprise strengthened his resolve.

 

“What?  No way, why would I help an idiot like you?  You thought  _ ghosts _ of all things were haunting you for an entire week, why would I save your dumb ass?” the voice protested in anger.  The hand suddenly vanished.

 

“Wait!” David yelled.

 

The arm didn’t come back, but the twinkle of green sea-glass returned.  “...What?”

 

“I-” Davey faltered.  “Why did you save me?”

 

“Are you deaf  _ and _ stupid?  I said I didn’t do it,” the voice snapped back, irritated.

 

Davey puffed his cheeks in annoyance.  “No way, it’s definitely you! You said the same thing when you left me at camp, right?”

 

“Well, I-” the voice fumbled.  “Fuck you!”

 

“I knew it!” Davey cheered, triumphant for just a moment at the furious tone.  “Tell me why you saved me!”

 

“Isn’t it past your bedtime, idiot?” It asks, sounding irate and tired.

 

“Not until nine.  Tell me! Please?” he pleaded.

 

They didn’t say a word.

 

Davey sighs, leaning his forehead against the tree.  He begins his careful, wobbly descent. “You won’t tell me who you are, you won’t show me what you look like, and you won’t tell me why you saved me?”

 

David almost thought It left, with how quiet it was.  “You sounded so dumb and pitiful,” Max replies evenly.  David looks up in surprise. “What was I supposed to do?”  He was quiet again. “I thought someone would have come for you, you know.  You’re so young, and all. Humans don’t really leave their kids just laying around in the forest, you know”.

 

Davey was quiet.  “I thought so too,” he answers in a small voice.  It hurt to admit. A small spark lit in his chest.  “But you came! So I was right, wasn’t I?”

 

“What?  No, I was just trying to sleep, but it’s hard when some kid is, like, dying right by you”.

 

Davey bit his lip, looking up for a long moment.  “...Thank you!” he finally blurts.

 

“What?” the voice said startled, sounding very taken aback.

 

David cupped his hands around his mouth, yelling.  “I SAID, ‘THANK YOU’!”

 

“ _ Fucking- _  Yeah, I  _ heard _ you, I meant why are you thanking me?” It snapped.  Davey could just make out an elbow now, hand presumably resting on a branch.  It really was a weird monster.

 

“You saved me!” Davey says honestly.  “I don't know. It's polite? I mean, you did make me miserable but I… I probably would have died out there if you hadn't picked me up and taken me back”.  Davey kicks a rotting apple nervously. “I'm still really upset that- that you did all those awful things but- you did save me”.

 

It was silent.  Davey’s cheeks were flushed and he felt suddenly very embarrassed, sweating in the heat.

 

“Um… so what’s your name?” he asks.  “I'm Davey”.

 

“Yeah, I know,” the voice says, sounding vaguely annoyed, the arm dangling back down.  “What do you give a shit. You just said I spent the past week torturing you, and what?  Now you're trying to be my friend all of a sudden?”

 

Davey shrugged, sitting in a patch without rotten apples in the shade of the trees and looking up.  He tilts his head. “I don't know. Usually, people that are jerks have something going on that makes them mad in their life and they have no outlet”.

 

“Sounds like you're full of shit”.

 

“My Ma says that,” he shoots back, offended.

 

“Then your Ma’s full of shit”.

 

“Hey!”

 

The arm pulsed a quick burst of yellow, green, and purple.  “How did you do that with your arm?”

 

“What?  This?” It says, snapping its fingers.  With each snap, a different color pulses along the scales in quick waves that disperse.  “Just can. How do you do that with  _ your  _ skin?”

 

David looked at his arm, scratching a big bite.  It was as tanned as it usually was. “Oh, my skin turns brown after the sun’s out for a while”.

 

“Huh”.

 

Davey looked up.  “How come you were digging around in my mouth last night?  That was super gross, by the way”.

 

“None of your damn business,” the voice shot down.

 

“Oh,” Davey replies softly, dejected

 

There's a moment of tense silence, awkward and heavy.

 

“...I've never seen what human teeth look like,” It says begrudgingly.  “I thought humans were carnivores. You eat meat and everything, I thought your dumb asses would have normal teeth but they're all flat and shit in the back”.

 

Davey huffed, irritated.  “I thought it was none of my business”.

 

There was a small snicker in the trees.  “Whatever”.

 

Another silence enveloped them.  “So you really won't tell me your name?”

 

“Why should I?  What do you care?”

 

Davey is quiet a moment.  “I don't have any friends,” he says with a sort of finality.  “Do you?”

 

“Uh,  _ yeah _ , of course I've got friends,” It says with a sneer.

 

Davey looks up, unimpressed.  “I thought you said you were bored?”

 

“You can be bored and have friends,” It snapped, arm flashing red like fallen leaves.  “Dipshit”.

 

“Do you have any… human friends?” he asks timidly.

 

“Why do you want to be my friend so bad, huh?”  There's a flash of light blue along the arm.

 

Davey doesn't want to say he's lonely, that he feels estranged and frustrated.  He's got a fresh start with It, and yes he terrorized him, but all of the pranks hadn't hurt him in a physical sense.  Yes, they were mean spirited and had him fear for his life, but he didn't think whatever It was would save him only to kill him later down the line.

 

“I don't know,” he says softly.  “But sometimes I kind of wish you hadn't saved me”.  It's silent, pale yellow crisscrossing up the arm in shaking stripes.  “I was really… I didn't want to be here. It seems like neither do you.  And everyone at camp is a bunch of jerks that don't care about anything but themselves.  You're a jerk but… at least I kind of know where I am with you. You know?” Davey shuffles his knees up to his chest and leans his chin on his knees.  “I don't have to pretend I'm happy when I'm not. Or say I'm ok when I'm not. You don't care. And it's easier to be if you have a friend that's sad too, right?”

 

The voice is silent, arm still and dark.  “...Max”.

 

Davey looks up curiously.  “Huh?”

 

The clawed fingers twitch.  “My name is Max. Friends ought to know each other's names”.

 

Davey stood in excitement.  “Nice to meet you, Max!” he calls loudly to the orchard.

 

“...Sure,” Max said as if he didn't fully believe him.

 

“I forgive you for terrorizing me to the point of fearing for my life!” he adds, as an afterthought.

 

Max laughs in the trees.  “I didn't apologize!”

 

“I know!  But I want a fresh start!” he says honestly.

 

“Weird one, aren't you?” he mumbles, fingers twitching.

 

“It's not like I've never heard that one before,” Davey said.  Davey tilted his head at the arm. “Can I see what you look like?”

 

“What for?  This not enough for you?” Max huffs.

 

“I don't know.  You already know what I look like.  You said you aren't human, right? You must look really cool and different,” he ponders.  Did he have scales everywhere? He thought Max had been big- he  _ seemed _ big when he was sticking his fingers in his mouth, but maybe that was his terror talking.

 

“Damn right,” Max says smugly, a dark, burnt orange flashing as he flexed his fingers.  

 

“Can you do that color thing with your whole body?” Davey asks.

 

“Yeah, for the most part,” Max calls down.  “...Yeah, alright”.

 

Davey perks.  “Really?”

 

“Yeah.  Besides, even if you tried to tell anyone, they wouldn't believe you anyways.  They'd just think you were full of shit”.

 

“Hey!” he shouts in protest, hurt like a thorn in his heart.

 

“Well, it's true.  None of them listened about me, did they?”

 

“...Can you just come down already?” Davey shoots back, sulkily.

 

“Yeah yeah I'm on my way down.  Keep your stupid human pants on”.  The tree rustled slightly, an apple falling carelessly off, thudding to the ground.  Davey watched with guarded curiosity, flashes of the same dark oil color coming through.  A hand latched to the trunk for balance and from the leaves came a strange face followed by a strange body that just kept coming, and coming, and coming.

 

Max’s body was sleek and moved like a ribbon above him, dangerous loops of muscle and scales that shimmered captivatingly with a suggestion of a rainbow like oil.  David found himself marveling at the scales before snapping to his suddenly exposed face with wonder. It was different from the dark of his body in that it was very much like his own. At first, Davey thought it was simply tanned, but soon found that it was covered in the same shimmer that his body was.  Larger scales clung at his cheeks and shoulders turned black as his body when he saw him staring, looping his long body along the branches. He slowly lowered his bare, scaled torso so he dangled just in front of Davey’s face. Terrible green eyes gleamed and when the leaves rustled and shook from the wind, he kept steady in place, body rotating with the wind to maintain eye contact.

 

“Scared?” teases Max, lips curling to reveal sharp teeth that seem to flex down from the top of his mouth.

 

Davey swallows.  “N- No,” he says, summoning all of his courage.  “Not anymore”.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope yall weren't disappointed with Max being what he is! We had a lot of good guesses!
> 
> special thanks to shrub for checking this over for errors even tho shes chronic tired and sleepy all the time <33

**Author's Note:**

> New story! Can anyone guess what Max is? ;)
> 
> Thanks for reading! Feel free to check out my tumblr and ko-fi at beastfeast87.tumblr.com
> 
> let me know what you thought!


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